Change in Biology
by Broken Infinity
Summary: A visit to a White Spot turns into a dangerous thing. An MTD is spread that changes from species to species. Or, species to Vulcan. Chapter Six up
1. A Perfectly Innocent Trip

Clephoid XIV, the only place in the entire United Federation of Planets that had a White Spot.   
Sure, there were other, more important things there, but they had White Spot. WHITE SPOT, people,   
how could the brave crew of the Enterprise -not- go there? Well, they went. Sort of, on a   
diplomatic mission. Kirk, Spock and McCoy beamed down to meet the cheese dealer was offering to   
supply swiss cheese to the Romulan, who were planning on being peaceful if they got the cheese.   
The romulans were being odd this month but hey, peace is peace, right? Right?   
Spock, Kirk and McCoy were wandering in an art gallery, looking for the cheese dealer, and they   
stopped in front of a paticualrily profound piece. An attempt to describe it would be futile, but   
it was lovely and thought provoking and stuff. Kirk poked it. McCoy smacked him. Spock looked at   
them with an 'I-don't-know-you-why-are-you-standing-next-to-me' look on his eyebrows. (the most   
expressive part pf his person) Then suddenly, the cheese dealer appeared.  
"Good afternoon, gentlemen, I trust you found the gallery with out incident?" She smiled, they   
nodded. "That is fortunate. I am pleased you have arrived. Come, we have negotiations to make."  
She led them out of the gallery, they got a ten dollar gift certificate for White Spot, and they   
followed the cheese dealer. Kirk walking beside her, Spock behind them and McCoy taking up the   
rear, occasionally pausing to look at things. Suddenly, somebody clamped a hand of McCoy's   
shoulder and dragged him down an alley.   
McCoy turned to look at his assailiant and was shocked, it was a Vulcan. A crazed one at that.   
Well, he didn't look entirely Vulcan, he looked mostly Vulcan. But McCoy did not make anymore   
observations. He was rendered unconsious.  
McCoy woke up a few hours later. He ached all over and he was in a public bathroom. His head hurt,   
insanely painful. He heard a knock on the door.   
"Doctor, are you alright? Are you experiencing any difficulties?" Spock asked, completely   
monotone, McCoy was too tired and hurt too much to become irritated, he slowly stood up and   
opened the door. He pulled his ay out and found a wall to cling to to keep vertical. Spock looked   
at him for a moment. "Do you require assistance?" he paused, McCoy looked blankly at him. "Can I   
help you, Doctor?" McCoy tried to shrug, winced and let go of the wall. The floor decided to rise   
up and smack him, wait, no, he fell. He opened his eyes after a moment. "Leonard, would you like   
me to carry you?"  
McCoy nodded, and closed his eyes.  
  
TBC 


	2. You are changing, Doctor

When McCoy opened his eyes he was on something soft a solid, perhaps a bed. Spock was reading   
something called "IT", which was this inanely huge (extremely old) book, and Jim was pacing   
around nervously. McCoy lifted his head slightly and let it fall back, and closed his eyes, with   
a groan. He hurt. Badly. Worse than that other time in the bathroom. Jim spun and rushed over to   
where McCoy was laying.  
"Bones? Bones? Can you hear me? Do you know who I am? Bones?" Jim said, McCoy opened his eyes a   
little more slowly this time. "Do you know who I am?"  
"Yes Jim. You could try to destroy you mind but I would not forget that you a James Tiberus Kirk,   
hard headed idiot extrordinaire. What do you want? And make it snappy, sleeping sound-feels, like   
a good idea right now." McCoy grumbled, talking even hurt. His throat was raw. His head hurt like   
someone had tried to smash it in with a sledgehammer and the rest of his body must have been   
crushed with a large cement block. But he could move, so nothing had been broken. Hopefully.   
Spock pulled out a handy medical instrument and waved it around in McCoy's general direction.   
"Doctor, you appear to have three cracked ribs and internal bleeding in the stomach region.   
And... something else, in you brain. I'm not certain what it is... but it appears to be breeding   
quickly and changing your brain and blood. In fact..." Spock stopped, clearly shocked. Whatever   
it was it was enough to shock even Spock.   
"Spock, what's wrong with me?" McCoy asked softly, he put his hand on Spock's, the one with the   
medical instrument. McCoy's hand was shaking slightly. Spock could feel the fear in McCoy. Spock   
sighed softly. "What is it?"  
"You're... you're biologically changing into a Vulcan, Doctor."   
  
TBC  
  
A/N: Please do not harm me. This is almost entirely based off of a dream. 


	3. We Never Went to White Spot

A/N: I swear I am not dead. Just in summer school. So I went ot Trek Convention and got myself all inspired. *claps at self* I love cons. Okay, this chapter will suck. Badly, but it's where all the stuff that needs to happen... well, almost happens. Kinda.  
  
"Y'know, we never did get to go to White Spot."  
  
Silence came to that, because they (Kirk, Spock and the entire enterprise craw) were being nice to He-Whose-Genetic-traits-were-changing or McCoym they were taking to Slow Way to the Enterprice (read: shuttlecraft, ugly, smelly, mildew-y shuttlecraft. MCCoy was randomly pointing things out (he's observant today), Kirk was being tolerant and stuff, and Spock, having finished IT had started reading Carrie. Spock was having a bit of a Stephen King reading-fest.Some stroke of luck had led him to a secret compartment in the Enterprise housing a whole lot (for lack of better words) of old-type paperback books.   
  
"You notice that? You're being turned into a Vulcan and you have to point out that we didn't go to White Spot?"  
  
McCoy sighed, and glared and was very human.   
  
"Must you consistanly remind me of that? I am patiently trying to forget that and hopefully it will all go away." He grumbled. He reached a hand up and lightly poked at his ear and winced. They were slowly reshaping themselves to be pointed, his hair was slowly and subtley turning darker, his complexion was begining to match Spocks and his eyebros were.. umm... pointing upwards slowly. (Sorry, how the hell to you describe those eyebrows?) So and almost Spock, but still McCoy was glaring at the Captain. Kirk shuddered.  
  
"That is just too creepy."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"You look like.. like.. if you and Spock ever managed ot cross-breed. That's what you look like."  
  
"And that is... ahh... 'creepy'?"  
  
That was Spock, he had pried himself out of his book, just long enough to cath that last line. He was confused, shocked and curious if that's what the offspring, the spawn, the result, rather, of that experament would look like.   
  
"Well, not creepy as... unusual." Was the clever reply of Kirk. He was flustered, he had no idea what he was talking about and he was about ot get the third degree from the most thoughtful, smart adn logical mind he had ever met. Oh he was screwed.  
  
But the expected third degree never came. Spock had handed McCoy his copy of IT and they were reading. Kirk wasn't entirely certain how that worked, but IT was supposedly a book about some homicidal clown, McCoy was sure to enjoy it. Spock looked over the top of his book.  
  
"I am taking Dr. McCoy to Vulcan. To make sure this... trasition goes well, to at least partically trained in the ways of Vulcans and of course to see if we can't keep him looking slightly like himself, begining to look too much like me might be... distressing for him."  
  
"You're suddenly so... considerate Spock, should I be worried?" McCoy asked, not looking up from his book. Some poor child just had his arm ripped off. Ooh goody.  
  
"No. I am just concerned that the... shock for you might be too great for you to handle. I have never seen a case like this where the.. victim hasn't lost his or her mind." 


	4. The Adult Vulcan ReEducation Class

a/n: Still not dead. I swear I'm gonna finish this story too. Because I swore when Istarted writing it that I would finish it. So I will.  
  
Vulcan. Hot. Dusty. Red.  
  
They were transported (Much to the Doctor's chargin, god I love that word.) Down to a dusty, old, gray (possibly traditional) landing...thing, and greated by a couple of Redshirt level Vulcans (read: superfluous characters *wince* bad spelling). They led them to another form of transportation (pick one, ground type) and shuttled them off to meet Spock's dad, Sarek and Spock's Grand-mummy, T'Pau. (it WAS T'Pau, right? Gods I hope so.) They were ceremonial and scary and used lots of 'thee's and 'thou's and McCoy kinda tuned them out. Tsk, tsk. McCoy agreed when they questioned him and wished he had a book to read. Finally, they left and Spock gently lead McCoy to somewhere, he wasn't sure. They passed a door labled in Vulcan, McCoy looked at it, but couldn't make it out, he had managed to forget he couldn't read Vulcan.  
  
'How did I manage that? I've never been able to read Vulcan.' He puzzled to himself, a part of his mind bit back 'But you should be able to.'  
  
McCoy puzzled a little more.  
  
Spock continued to lead the almost Vulcan into a room. Thee were others in this room. Adult Vulcans, and romulans and some humans too. How odd.  
  
"This is the Adult Vulcan Re-education Class. We will be attending it." Spock whispered to him.  
  
"We?" McCoy whispered back, confused.  
  
"I am going to help you." Spock replied, findingthem seats. Hard, uncomfotable seats, but seats indeed.  
  
'A class. I'm taking a Vulcan class with Spock. Great.' he mentally muttered. 'What next?'  
  
a/n: Alright, remember how bad things happen after someone says 'it can't get any worse than this?', well strange and possibly bad things are going to happen with the 'what next?'. I hope you enjoyed this. 


	5. Aren't We the Lucky Doctor?

a/n: Well, it's been awhile since the last chapter, alright? Alright.  
  
Well, this hadn't been a complete failure. The classes were funny. There was a teacher, and everyone had headphones (since everyone did not speak the same language, the headphopnes translated what the teachers said) They had been through six different teachers. The teachers stayed long enough until they thought they could teach the class nothing more. Four teachers thought that McCoy would fail as a vulcan, one thought he'd do fine and the last one, having heard so many bad things did not acknowledge McCoy at all. McCoy couldn't tell if that was bad or not. So, many hours after the classes, Spock would be trying ot re-explain what hte teachers were speaking about in the class. The translators were not the best. In fact, they were down right the worst translators that ever exsisted.  
  
But, while McCoy had not taken to the logic and emotion supressing, he had taken to reading the Vulcan language with great gusto. He was almost as good as Spock. However, while he could read it, he couldn't speak it or understand it orally. This didn't discourage him. He kept reading.  
  
And now, now, McCoy had a fever. He was hot, he hurt. His emotions, which he thought he almost had control over were all over the place. Dammit all, he was so close.  
  
Currently he was curled on the floor of th cave the was his housing. The floor was cold, he wasn't, it was comfy. Almost. Except that the skin not touching the floor and wall were on fire. Fire, flaming, he didn't understand why he had not spontaniously conbusted yet. It burnt and it hurt. And didn't understand what was going on.  
  
The door opened and a pair of feet (he didn't pay attention to whose feet) walked in. They were connected to legs, which, in turn, were connected to a body. After finally gettingover himself he decided ot find out who the feet and legs and body belonged to. Spock. Well, that wasn't too suprising. Spock could be expected.   
  
"I'm hot, Spock." McCoy said matter-of-factly.  
  
"Are you?" He asked, "That is... odd."  
  
"Very hot. I'm on fire Spock. This really sucks."  
  
Spock bent down to touch McCoy's forehead. It was indeed burning. Spock's eyes widened ever so subtly.   
  
"Oh... my." He said. McCoy narrowed his eyes at him. "I was not expecting... this... yet."  
  
"What? Not expecting -what- yet?" McCoy growled.  
  
"You, Doctor, appear to be in Pon Farr." Spock replied calmly.  
  
"Great. Just bloody wonderful. I'm in heat." McCoy said, he changed his position and looked angry at the wall.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well, what am I supposed to do about it?"  
  
a/n: I'm being evil. Eeeeeeeevil. Right-oh, I'm not sure where I'll go with this. Considering that this is me, you lot should be expecting me to go the way I probably will, but I might not. Though I probably will. But aren't I evil? Putting poor McCoy through Pon Farr? Heh heh... eeeeevil. 


	6. I Know That Look

A/N: I still don't know what to do. I'm so buggered. I'm bad at this whole cliff hanger thing, as I make them, and promptly forget what to do with them.  
  
Spock sighed. Loudly.  
  
This was odd and unusual, as this was Spock, and he didn't do that. But eitherwise, here he was, sighing.  
  
He was sighing, the Doctor was doing the vulcan 'We-need-to-have-sex-right-now!' thing, and he was in charge of making sure he didn't die or anything. Now, Spock didn't really hate the Doctor, and didn't want him to die, but he didn't want to be in charge of this. This was a huge responsibility. This was a life or death situation. This was a doctor's job. McCoy was the doctor here, not Spock. However, the doctor was now the patient, and so the reluctant patient must be the doctor.  
  
He knew full well that there wasn't a creature on this planet that would help a halfbreed and a diseased monster like the two of them.   
  
It was a mildly distressing situation. McCoy was wasting away with a terrible fever and Spock was being eaten up by something akin to guilt. If he couldn't find someone... he refused to even entertain that thought.   
  
"Spock?" A voice said from the other room. Spock stood and walked to the other room.  
  
"Yes, Doctor, can I help you?"  
  
McCoy gave him a Look. A Significant Look.  
  
Spock worried, he didn't worry visibly, but he worried.  
  
"Spo-o-o-o-o-ck." McCoy repeated, the Significant Look changes subtly.  
  
The last thing Spock had the chance to think before it happened was 'I know that look'.  
  
a/n: proverbial cookies to anybody who knows what 'it' is. 


End file.
